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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27467752">Heartstrings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/papesthebird/pseuds/papesthebird'>papesthebird</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>:&gt;, F/F, F/M, M/M, WIP, aaaaa, eeeeeee, feck u this is gonna be a ride, filipino!race, how to tag, idk man, uhhhh, will tag later</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27467752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/papesthebird/pseuds/papesthebird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Your lie in April au but not.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber, Smalls/Sarah (Newsies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Intro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Intro</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Racetrack HIggins sighed as he put down his violin. He scowled at his technique book before gently putting the violin in it's case. His rosin dusted hands stuck to the sheet music and he scowled once more. Race bit his lip out of frustration and packed up his stuff, his mind wandered away from his practice and wandered towards his audition. He had auditioned for a touring company of who knows what and was awaiting the call. A gig was a gig, it's not like there were many job options that he could've taken. While walking back home, he took out his journal and started furiously scribbling things onto the paper.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The tradgedy of being a musician</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A small cloud of dust</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Continues into the crowd</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And errupts into a symphony</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But sadly</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When the dust circles back</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It doesn't explode</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Into a pile of cash</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He chuckled at his work, it was a small one and not one that he'd be talking about but one that he would hang up on the fridge for a rainy day. His phone buzzed in his pocket and his heartbeat quickened when he realized it was a call from the company. He quickly responded to the call as anxiety flooded through him. </p><p> </p><p>"Is this Antonio Higgins?" The caller inquired, Race tried his hardest to not scream in front of the people passing by him.</p><p> </p><p>"Mhm, that's me." He rapidly tapped his foot on the sidewalk.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I'd like to say congrats on getting first desk, we'll be emailing you your sheet music and reheasals begin next week. See you then." The call ended and Race felt the corners of his mouth rise. He dashed home and gently placed his violin on the floor before throwing his hands in the air.</p><p> </p><p>Little did he know, that whole trip would change his life. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>eeee consider leaving kudos? idk how the validation system works here</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Race groaned when he heard his alarm go off, he got up and sighed as he shut it off. He unplugged his phone from his charge and smiled at the notification popping up on his screen.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Reheasal today, 6am. Don't be late &gt;:(."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He showered and pulled on his usual outfit made up of an oversized hoodie (a gift from his Dad) and a pair of jeans. He skipped getting coffee and headed outside to wait at the bus station. His eyes widened when he realized he forgot his instrument, he dashed inside to grab it before bolting into the bus. He put in his earbuds in as the bus turned at a corner. His playlist was comprised of songs he'd been listening to ever since he got his phone, with his ever changing intrests in certain genres, his playlist was a treasure trove of everything. Just like his room, it was a complete mess and Race was the only one who could actually find anything. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was something that Race hadn't exactly figured out yet, it's not like he was going to have anyone over anyway. </p><p> </p><p>The bus stopped and Race stepped off onto the street. His hips swayed along to the music as his head rocked from side to side. The bass slung around his shoulder remained still while he made his way to the theater, it'd been a while since he actually practiced. He chuckled at the thought of a consistent practice schedule, who could actually keep a consistent practice schedule? At least he had a topic he could talk about with the other orchestra members, the constant need to practice but the lack of motivation to leave the couch and actually set up a space to practice felt daunting, even if it mean just taking the instrument out of the case. He waltzed through the doors of the pit and was greeted by chairs, most of them were empty, he made his way over to his music stand and started unpacking his instrument just as the rest of the orchestra arrived. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, this is our new bassist Race, he'll be replacing Oakley. We'll do a quick run through the whole show and then rehearse with the cast today." He bit back a grin as he got out his music, he didn't actually practice <em>everything, </em>he just went over the hardest parts he could find. His eyes drifted to the ceiling, he did a silent prayer to not mess up before watching the conducter going over certain passages. Time seemed to fly faster than Race could comprehend as his fingers flew across the fingerboard, it had been a while since he'd actually had a fun bass solo. His foot tapping served as a metronome while he finished the passage. </p><p> </p><p>Everything seemed to pass faster than Racer could comprehend, in the blink of an eye rehearsal finished. He watched everyone leave before packing up his stuff and exiting the pit. As he exited the orchestra, he walked right into someone rushing down the hall, he flailed in mid-air for a second before feeling his back hit the ground and his bass hit his chest. </p><p> </p><p>"Holy shit are you alright? Sorry about that." He looked up, a ginger towered over him and sheepishly grinned. "You must be the new guy, I'm Albert." Race nodded and stood up, he dusted himself off before checking on his bass, no damage, thank god he wasn't carrying an amplifier or he'd be crushed. </p><p> </p><p>"You can call me Race." He awkardly fingergunned, he immediatly regretted his decision and turned away from Albert to leave the theater. </p><p> </p><p>"Again sorry 'bout that, if you want I can make it up to you. I'm leaving with a couple of friends from the ensemble to get lunch, you can join us if you want." Race stopped and thought about it for a second. Either go with these people he'd never known before and get free food, or he could go home only to have to get ingredients to make something good for lunch. He spun around on his heel to face Albert.</p><p> </p><p>"Sounds good, is anyone from the orchestra gonna be there?" Race had locked eyes with the first chair violinist while he was in the room, he crossed his fingers and hoped to be able to meet him.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah, Marbles is gonna be there. He's the guy at the front of the orchestra with the violin, I think you'll like him." Albert walked with him to the exit. </p><p> </p><p>"You mean the concert master?" Race grinned, God he was lucky today. Albert nodded and pointed to a cafe across the street.</p><p> </p><p>"This is where I meet with the guys after every rehearsal and show, you're welcome to join us whenever you want. Now c'mon, let's go." The red head smiled at Race before running to the cafe. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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